


Graduation

by tellezara



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Gen, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellezara/pseuds/tellezara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A comparison piece - Phoenix and Larry are graduating from elementary school, and across the ocean, Miles is graduating too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Graduation

The rain fell in vertical sheets, smacking into the dusty bitumen and soaking it dark grey. The leafy trees surrounding the open playground shuddered under the wet assault, and all Phoenix could see from his vantage point on the stage was a colourful sea of umbrellas, hiding the parents sheltering beneath them. Despite the freak summer cloudburst, they had all turned out to see him and the rest of his class receiving their elementary school graduation certificates. He spotted the red-and-white Volvo umbrella belonging to his parents and felt a flush of pride. His marks in numeracy and literacy were nothing to write home about, but he knew he’d topped the class in Drama and was due a certificate for that – how pleased they would be!

“You’re hogging all the brolly space, Nick,” Larry complained.

Phoenix obligingly shifted the canopy of his blue umbrella so it covered more of his friend, though now the rain running off it was dripping onto the shoulder of his blazer. Still, it couldn’t be helped – the brolly just wasn’t big enough to cover them both, and he didn’t want Larry to catch his death. Larry didn’t have an umbrella, or a blazer, or even a shirt, but Phoenix could tell he’d made a vague effort to be presentable for the ceremony... or maybe his father had caught him and forced him into his current attire. Larry was wearing a dirty white t-shirt instead of his usual filthy singlet, and he’d acquired a pair of shabby shoes from somewhere. Phoenix felt very overdressed sitting next to him. He hooked a finger into the knot of his tie, pulling it looser. His Mum had bought it for him to wear today and it was still stiff and starchy, half-strangling him.

“Is your Dad out there, Larry?” Phoenix asked.

“Nah,” Larry replied, picking his nose in full view of everyone attending. “He don’t have no umbrella and today’s the pub quiz anyway. I was gonna go to the pictures tonight but he said he’d wallop me if I didn’t turn up for this. He even made me dress up all poncy-smart like you lot.” He waggled his feet, displaying his shoes and making a face at them.

Phoenix nodded – nothing new there. Larry’s Dad hadn’t attended a single parents evening either, though he cared enough about Larry’s education to box the boy’s ears if he didn’t turn up for school at least once a week. That was the only reason Larry bothered with school – his grades were abysmal and the teachers had given up on him long ago.

Mr. Cage, the headmaster, strode past them and stepped up to the microphone. He coughed, then switched the microphone on, tapping it experimentally.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he announced, “I’d like to apologise for the current weather conditions – unfortunately the condemnation of our school hall has forced us to hold an outdoor ceremony, leaving us somewhat victim to the whims of the elements…”

“Oh, get it over with, you old fart,” Larry muttered darkly. “It’s cold out here!”

“I can’t wait to get my Drama certificate,” Phoenix whispered excitedly. “Who d’you reckon will get the Dux award? I didn’t think anyone in our class scored that great on the exams this year.”

“Who cares?” Larry scoffed. “Though it would’ve been Edgey if he hadn’t buggered off – he was always the smartalec.”

“I wonder…” Phoenix was thoughtful. “I wonder if he’s graduating right now, just like us – wherever he is. He probably got top marks in everything.”

“Wherever it is, I hope it’s pissing it down on him too – else it’s not fair and he’s a git!”

“BUTZ!” the headmaster roared, forgetting the microphone was on and deafening everyone. “Silence, if you please!”

“Nick was talking too!”

****************

It was raining at Miles’ graduation. However, the only thing reminding him of that fact was the soft pattering of the drops hitting the windows. He was sat indoors, in the school’s enormous and ornately decorated hall, nothing more than another pale face in amongst the other four classes of his year. At the front the headmaster was giving a long speech on how the children of such great people would go on to do wonderful things themselves. He was pandering to the parents who had come to watch the ceremony, all of whom had status and influence. Miles spotted the Vice-Chancellor sitting in one of the chairs towards the back, a hefty bodyguard seated on either side of him. He was glowing with pride, knowing that his son had scooped up a heap of academic awards.

“Hey, Miles,” the boy sitting next to him whispered. “Is your father out there?”

 _My Dad’s dead…_ Miles replied in his head, but he knew the boy was asking about von Karma. In this school, his place in the pecking order depended on who his father was, and he’d sensed from the outset that telling them the truth would do him no favours. Most of his life in Germany was a lie anyway – one more made no difference.

“Don’t be stupid,” he replied, his guttural German making the retort sound even more savage. “He’s got far more important things to be getting on with.”

The boy flinched, apologising and falling silent.

Miles didn’t even bother looking at the audience who were politely applauding when he went up to receive his graduation certificate. Here in Germany, at the school of prodigies and geniuses, his grades didn’t stand out at all, and von Karma never let him forget that. As he sat down again, he looked at the marbled certificate in his hand, listing the subjects he had taken and his grades. It wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on; it merely showed he had complied with the country’s minimum standard of education laws. From now on, he was to be home-schooled in the things that really mattered. The only language he needed was the terms of the law, science served only to help him understand forensic reports, and once he became a prosecutor his book-keeping would be done by those beneath him.

Thoughts of his classmates back in Los Angeles never crossed his mind – they were part of another life across the Atlantic that he’d left behind for good.


End file.
